Page 27 of Double Trouble for the Mafia Prince
"No," she snaps. "Don’t you?—"
I lean back, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and grin.
"Ask nicely."
Her chest rises and falls.
Her mouth trembles.
But her eyes—those fierce, furious eyes—finally give in. "Please."
I grab her hips and dive back in.
This time, I don’t stop.
I suck and lick, tease and torment, working her clit until she’s trembling all over, until her moans are punched from her lungs in gasps she can’t control.
I slide one finger inside her, then two, curling them to hit the spot that makes her buck.
Her whole body draws tight, spine arching off the desk, and when she comes, it’s a silent scream, her mouth open, her nails digging into the wood hard enough to scar it.
She doesn’t speak when I rise, though her breath comes hard and shallow, chest lifting in trembling waves beneath the crimson silk still bunched around her waist.
Her legs are spread, thighs slick and glistening, her whole body braced against the polished wood as if it’s the only thing keeping her tethered.
I don’t let her gather herself.
I don’t give her space to reclaim control.
I reach for her waist and draw her back slightly, just enough that her ass meets the edge of the desk, legs parted wide enough now for me to step between them.
Her dress is rucked up on her hips, the silk twisted and gathered like it’s been torn from its dignity, the lace of her bra still clinging to her chest, though one strap has fallen down her arm.
She looks drunk on sex, and I haven’t even fucked her yet.
My belt comes undone in one low snap.
Her eyes flick down, then back up to mine, and there it is again—that flicker of pride she tries to wear like armor.
I let her see me stroke myself, the head of my cock glistening with precum, thick and already aching for her.
She doesn’t look away.
Her fingers grip the edge of the table.
But her body leans into me, giving me the consent I need.
I don’t tease this time.
I guide myself between her legs and push in, slow, controlled, making sure she feels every inch as I fill her.
Her head falls back.
Her mouth parts in a gasp that breaks halfway.
She is so fucking tight, still pulsing from the orgasm I pulled from her with my tongue, and the heat of her wraps around me like a velvet vice.
"Goddamn," I murmur against her throat, holding her steady as I bury myself deeper.
